A woman, dressed very staid and librarian-ish, steps from the rubble. Her hands are folded in front of her, and her steps are measured, dainty and well placed. They disturb none of the rubble that she crosses through. "There are some here. Just no one you'd look for. Why are you here, stranger?" Said that very prim voice, one eyebrow raised in an imperious fashion. Something isn't quite human about this woman.